The One Unforgotten
by Faylin-Linx
Summary: Cloud wasn't the first to open Vincent's coffin. While seeking answers within ShinRa mansion, Sephiroth discovers a troubled Vincent in the basement and finds that some things are best left unasked.


Well here it is, make a note that I own none of the mentioned characters (though I like to pretend I do). As it is, this was first written as a response to a challenge on Livejournal.

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The One Unforgotten

Steps resounded in the darkness as a solitary man made his way down the winding staircase into the basement below. It had lain hidden for so long, and it was all here, he knew it was, here lay the answers to everything…His past, his present, and likely his future as well, here lay who he was.

However, while one knows now what lay within the basement, and what happened to said man after he'd found it, I doubt you've ever been privy to the tale of what happened before he gained the knowledge that lost him his mind, the tale of a detour held now only in the memories of one lost to the lifestream, and one cloaked in silent misery.

The steps continued, become a soft tapping drumbeat, moving in time with the man's heartbeat, slow, rhythmatic, controlled, and then there was the door.

It was old and worn, made of wood, and damp even to the man's gloved hands when he laid them upon it.

Did the answers lie here?

He pushed at it, not forcefully, simply testing the strength of the door, which did not seem much, for at this time it had not been locked, though there was evidence that it had been once upon a time.

And so, he pushed it the rest of the way open, reveling in the lack of resistance that it put up, but his elation at having opened it was short lived, for it was not the study of the late Professor Gast that he found, but a room full of coffins.

This puzzled him, perplexed him with the mystery of it, enough so that he did not turn away from the room just yet. Instead he moved through it, idly rapping at the coffins; finding nearly all of them echoed back with a hollow sound, the sound of being empty….all but one.

That one now held his full attention as he wondered what might be inside it, and of course in the end, curiosity won out and he found himself trying the lid which he was able to remove with surprisingly little effort, but then again he was a SOLDIER, and an elite one at that, and thus things that required much effort on the part of the average populace, required very little effort at all from himself.

And so in a short amount of time he toppled the lid and nearly gasped at what laidwithin it as shock rippled through him.

'A man,' was the first thing he thought, and he reached out to touch the man's neck, feeling for any signs of life, but when crimson eyes snapped open and focused in on him, such signs were no longer necessary, and he drew his hand back in surprise…This man was alive.

Mako green orbs met crimson ones, and shock could be seen in both sets, though for different reasons.

On one end, the silver haired man was shocked that the man was alive. How long had he been down here? Did he know anything? The silver-haired man's mind was suddenly abuzz with far too many thoughts, and then yet another came as he finally bothered to take a good look at the man within the coffin….he was beautiful.

Long raven colored locks fanned a perhaps too pale face, giving him a look of fragility, and yet there was an inner strength, a defiance and a deep seeded anger in the soulful crimson eyes, though he was not the one at whom it was directed …..and there was shock within them as well, a shock as clear as his own.

But though these things drew his attention, and man's lithe body got its fare share of 'once' overs , it was the metal claw adorning one of the man's hands that caught his attention. 'What the?' Who could have done such a thing, and why was the man in here?

These thought were not ones the general got to puzzle over for long as the coffin dweller murmured something, it seemed to be a name.

"Lucretia?" he had said, for the features above him seemed so familiar, then man's eyes narrowed and he said a single word. "Go." This was not Lucretia.

The silver haired man frowned as he reached out and laid a gloved hand atop the metal claw. "How did you get this?" it looked like work he knew…something vaguely familiar but unreachable, perhaps if the other man told him.

"Go away," the raven haired man muttered angrily, voice hoarse, probably from disuse, as he tried to jerk his claw tipped arm away from this stranger and failed miserably, his limbs weak from disuse.

"How did you get this?" the general repeated more forcefully this time, ignoring the anguish that flickered momentarily in the depths of crimson eyes. This was something he felt he had to know, and yet could not, for the life of him, explain why…it just seemed so…..wrong that this had been done to a man, especially the fragile creature before him.

"Go away," the man said again, this time forcing more power into his voice, hoarse though it still was, and then, "Leave me in peace."

"No," the returning answer came before he could stop it, or rather before the general could even so much as think about it, for he was so used to giving orders, so used to being heeded, that this was…unfathomable to him….He would get his answer, and he would do it by any means necessary, though his resolve to do so nearly shattered when he heard the broken tone in which the man's reply came.

"What do you want with me?"

Why did this man assume he wanted something? Again he was perplexed. There was of course the answer to his earlier question, but it seemed this was linked to far more than just that, or perhaps the question was linked to more…and why did this man sound as though he expected to be tortured for said answer?

"I want an answer to my question…Who did this to you?"

"I thought the question was how did I get this," came the almost amused reply as the man lifted his claw slightly as if to prove his point.

"Just answer the question," the SOLDIER general replied his eyes narrow slightly at the man's impertinence. He may have been beautiful, but he wouldn't get away with this…damn recruits thinking they're better than….He was suddenly startled out of his train of thought by the realization of the reality around him, this man was hardly a recruit for anything.

"I see no reason to divulge my personal information to a complete stranger," he said, there, straight and to the point…maybe now the man would get it and leave him to his rest, he deserved it after all, for not being able to protect her, for letting her fall into Hojo's clutches to become an experiment…something he himself had experienced unwillingly for trying to stop the man….And then another tactic was used, another question that nearly shattered his heart in two.

"Who's Lucretia?" the silver haired stranger asked, and he knew there was anguish and guilt clearly written upon his features and in his eyes…how could there not be?

"How do you know that name?"

"You called it out, it's a woman I presume…a lover perhaps?" the man questioned.

Vincent seemed to flinch away room the question both physically and emotionally, or so it seemed, but then surprisingly, he answered.

"I loved her yes…but I could not save from him…Hojo…." He broke off, that was far too much information as it was, and pain and guilt weighted him down for having said this much.

'So that's what this is….Hojo..he did this,' the silver haired man thought, his mako enhanced eyes narrowing in anger. He disliked Hojo for his own reasons, and now he would even more so because the man had ruined this beautiful creature before him…he didn't know what Hojo had thought the man had done to deserve this, and he didn't care.

Suddenly he realized all of the pain the man must have gone through, and in that same moment he also realized that he was making him relive it, and that was when he came to his decision.

His eyes focused intently on the now silent Vincent and he bent down into the coffin. "Forgive me," he murmured softly, voice barely above a whisper before claiming the ex-turk's lips and slipping an arm around him to lift him up.

And Vincent…Vincent could not find it in him to protest, he could not move, he was held spell-bound even as he felt himself being lifted. His eyes had fluttered closed and for once, thoughts what had occurred in the past vanished, and then there was only darkness.

A fist connected with the back of the man's skull and the General gently lowered him back into the coffin, arranging him to that his arms were crossed over his chest, a warning to all who approached him of his heartache…and of things that should not be asked of him.

Then, without giving it much conscious thought, he reached out and caressed the unconscious man's cheek, before moving to heft the lid back into place.

He never did find out whether or not the man had ever forgiven him, or even who he was while he was sane enough to care, but he was also never able to forget him.


End file.
